Inferno

by Paul J Bennett

  The statement gave Rugg pause. He turned, a look of curiosity on his face. "An interesting thing to say. We have never been attacked and are on friendly terms with our neighbours, but it seems changes are coming or so says our shaman." He waved his hand in what Kargen thought was a very Human manner. "But let us not speak of such things just yet. Come, I will introduce you to our chieftain, Zahruhl."

  The great hall, with the exception of the stone walls, was of a similar layout as was typical amongst the green race. A large room held enough space for the tribe to gather, while one end was separated by a wall to allow the chieftain and his family some privacy. A wooden door connected the two, on which Rugg rapped three times.

  "Come," came the answer.

  The master of earth opened the door, ushering Kargen and Shaluhk inside.

  "Greetings," said Rugg, "I have brought you guests. This is Kargen, Chieftain of the Red Hand, and this is their shaman, Shaluhk."

  "Greetings to you both," the leader of the Stone Crushers replied. "Have a seat, and we shall share the milk of life."

  They took their places around the modest fire. A female Orc entered, carrying a bowl filled with the milky-white liquid.

  "This is Voruhn," said the chieftain, "my bondmate."

  "Honour to your Ancestors," said Shaluhk.

  "And to yours," came the reply.

  Zahruhl took a sip of the milk, passing it to Kargen. The chieftain of the Red Hand raised the drink to his lips, partaking of only the smallest of sips, then gave it to Shaluhk. In this way, it made its way around the circle, finally coming to rest in the hands of Voruhn. The ritual complete, the bowl was set aside.

  "Tell me," said Zahruhl, "why have you come here?"

  "We come seeking a new home," Kargen replied. "Our last was devastated by war."

  "The Humans?"

  Kargen nodded. "Yes, though we defeated them once, we knew it was inevitable that they would return in greater numbers. It was a difficult decision to move on, but we knew we had little choice."

  "And so you crossed the mountains."

  "How did you know that?" asked Kargen.

  "Where else would you have encountered Humans?"

  "Will you allow us to pass through your lands?"

  "I will," said Zahruhl, "under one condition."

  Kargen braced himself. "Go on."

  "You must talk to your people. Those that wish it may settle amongst us, adopting our ways."

  "Absorption?"

  "Only for those who choose it."

  "I shall consider your offer." Kargen thought a moment before continuing. "If we do decide to cross your lands, what can we expect?"

  "Northeast of here lies the hunting grounds of our cousins, the Black Axe. Beyond them are said to be Humans."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yes, to the north lies the ancient gateway."

  "That sounds intriguing," said Shaluhk. "What manner of gateway is this you speak of?"

  "It is an ancient stone construction," said Zahruhl, "but Rugg is better suited to speak of such things." He looked to his master of earth.

  "The gateway's origin is lost to history," stated Rugg, "its true use long forgotten in the past, and yet it still possesses great power."

  "In what way?" asked Shaluhk.

  "It enhances the effectiveness of any spell cast in its vicinity."

  "Any magic?"

  "Well, that of the earth, certainly. The others we are not sure of."

  "Is it of Orcish construction?"

  "It certainly appears to be," the master of earth continued. "There are inscriptions on the stone in the ancient language of our race, though none can read it these days."

  "If you can not read it," asked Kargen, "how do you know it is in Orcish?"

  "It bears symbols that are similar to those used by our shamans, including myself."

  "Fascinating," noted Shaluhk. "I have often wondered what our Ancestors were capable of."

  "Are there dangers aside from the Humans?" asked Kargen.

  "Only from the tuskers, and fortunately, they are few."

  "Tuskers?"

  "Yes," added Zahruhl, "vicious beasts larger than deer, with tusks and sharp teeth."

  "I think we encountered one of those," said Kargen. "It had cloven feet and moved quickly."

  "That sounds like a Tusker. Tell me, how did you defeat it? Their hides are said to be impenetrable."

  "We used a combination of things," explained Kargen, "including magic, my axe, and a warbow."

  "A warbow?"

  "Yes, a bow crafted to take advantage of our broad shoulders. It was developed by a member of our tribe, a Human named Athgar."

  "A Human?" Zahruhl recoiled in horror. "You let them travel amongst you?"

  "I wish it were so, but no, he and his bondmate, Nat-Alia, preceded us. I am surprised you have not met them."

  The chieftain waved away the remark. "The forest is thick, and we can not be everywhere at once. Perhaps they have already made contact with our cousins of the Black Axe?"

  "One can always hope," noted Shaluhk.

  Zahruhl rose. "I will let you return to your people, Kargen. You have much to consider. Once again, I extend the invitation to your tribe. Let them be joined to us as one. It is best for all."

  "I appreciate the offer, but the choice is not mine to make. We shall hold a meeting and give you your answer in the morning."

  "Very well. Rugg will show you the way out."

  They were led back outside, through the great hall, and into the village itself.

  "He means well," said the master of earth, "and the addition of your tribe would certainly make us stronger."

  "He is generous," said Shaluhk, "but our Ancestors have sent us here for a reason. I can not believe it is to join your tribe." She bowed her head slightly. "I intend no offence."

  "And I have taken none. You must do what you think is best for your people, just as Zahruhl does."

  They reached the gate to the village where Karag waited.

  "Are you ready to return to your people?" the hunter asked.

  "We are."

  "Then let us go. I would have you there before dark."

  * * *

  They took the vote that very evening. There was much discussion, for the exodus had taken its toll, and many wanted nothing more than to settle down and resume a semblance of normality. Long into the night it went, Kargen taking care that everyone had a chance to say their piece. The motion for the entire tribe to be absorbed into the Stone Crushers was easily defeated, but the next decision proved more difficult. After much discussion, it was decided that each Orc would decide for themselves whether to follow Kargen and the Red Hand or to remain behind under the leadership of Zahruhl.

  With a heavy heart, Kargen led seventeen Orcs to the village of Khasrahk the next morning. Rugg met them at the entrance, ready to embrace the new members of his tribe.

  "I shall look after them," the master of earth promised.

  Kargen said his farewells. The parting was not an easy one. He had known them all for his entire life, but some were old and feared they would never see the final destination of the Red Hand, while others worried about their younglings' futures.

  "The village is well defended," said Gralun, an ancient warrior, "and we can live out the rest of our lives here in peace."

  Kargen put on a brave face. "I wish you only the best, old friend. Take care of yourself."

  Shaluhk hugged Gralun. "May the Ancestors look over you and keep you safe."

  "And you," the old Orc replied.

  They started back to their camp, their footsteps weighed heavy by responsibility.

  "Our tribe is diminished," noted Kargen.

  "Yes," Shaluhk agreed, "but not defeated. It shall rise again, Kargen, with you at its head."

  He looked at her as they walked. "You are always looking forward rather than back. A trait I greatly admire."

  She smiled at the compliment. "It is my duty, as shamaness, to l
ook to the future. You, as our leader, must look to the present."

  "And the past?"

  "Is behind us," she added, "where it belongs."

  "And so we are on the move once more. Will this journey never stop?"

  "Have faith, bondmate. The summer is ending. Let us hope the autumn will bring our tribe the rewards it seeks."

  They walked in silence awhile, and then Shaluhk saw the look on Kargen's face that she recognized so well.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

  "What makes you say I am thinking?"

  "I know that look; you have knit your brows."

  "I do not knit my brows."

  "If you say so, but you know I am right. Now, what is it you are thinking about?"

  "The tusker," Kargen replied.

  "What of it?"

  "It would make a terrifying weapon, would it not? Imagine if we could break it to the saddle?"

  "We do not use saddles nor ride beasts," said Shaluhk.

  "WE might not, but the Humans do. I wonder if our Ancestors ever rode?"

  "It is said that young Orcs of the Black Arrow would ride large wolves."

  "Black Arrow? I do not recall that tribe."

  "Nor would I expect you to. They live far to the west."

  "Is this the same west that has Human allies?"

  "It is," said Shaluhk. "They are led by a chieftain named Urgon. He, like you, saw the wisdom in working with the Humans."

  "And did his tribe prosper?"

  "It has, and it continues to do so."

  "Then he is lucky. The relationship between Humans and Orcs here has been one of near-constant strife."

  "Athgar has shown us another way," Shaluhk reminded him.

  "Yes, but his village was destroyed, its people scattered to the ends of the Continent."

  "Much like our own, generations ago."

  Kargen looked at her, deep in thought. "That is true. I had not considered it. Perhaps this journey is a trial of sorts."

  "Trial?"

  "Yes, to test our resolve. If that is so, then we will emerge all the stronger for it."

  "Now that sounds more like the Orc I love," said Shaluhk. "Tell me, my bondmate, where will we settle?"

  "That remains to be seen. For the moment, we will content ourselves with travelling north until we contact the Orcs of the Black Axe. From them, we will learn more of this area, allowing us to finally locate a place to call home."

  "And we shall have other Orcs to trade with. Something our tribe has not done for generations."

  Kargen turned his gaze south. The village of Khasrahk was far too distant to see, yet in his mind, it was clear. "Our fellow tribe has much to offer. I see the wisdom in Gralun's choice, but it is not for me."

  "Nor me," said Shaluhk, "though I do wonder if the bonds we have forged this day may bear fruit in the future?"

  "In what way?"

  "Imagine if Ord-Kurgad had been protected by walls of stone. The attack would never have been attempted."

  "I think you discredit the Humans too much. They would have still attacked but would have required much larger numbers. Still, your observation gives me thought. Maybe, once we settle, we will ask for help securing our new village."

  Shaluhk warmed to the idea. "We could exchange shamans."

  "You are my bondmate," said Kargen. "I would not send you to another."

  "Then they can send their people to us, to be trained in the healing arts."

  "Yes, and we shall send Orcs to them to learn the secrets of the earth."

  "It seems our future is bright with possibilities."

  "It is," said Kargen, his smile lighting up his face. "Now, if only we could find our new home!"

  An Ill Wind

  Autumn 1104 SR

  * * *

  As the heat of summer finally gave way to the colder winds of autumn, Athgar settled into village life with ease, occasionally hunting when he wasn't busy making bows. The villagers easily grew accustomed to this strange pair, and Natalia, even as a skrolling, was soon sought out for her wisdom.

  The negotiations with the tribes had continued, but the first signs of real progress were when Athgar led a group of Orcs into Runewald bearing goods for trade.

  Eadred's displeasure was evident to all, but the rest of the village was ecstatic, particularly over the herbs and medicines they brought. In exchange, the Orcs received wool and cloth along with the arrows Athgar had made.

  On a particularly chilly day, Athgar was sitting before the hut carving a bow of his own design. As he sat, whittling away the wood, a shadow loomed over him. He looked up to see Melwyn.

  "Hello, Athgar," she said.

  "Good morning, Melwyn. Is there something I can do for you?"

  "May I sit?"

  "Of course. Can I offer you something to drink?"

  "No, thank you."

  She sat opposite him, silently watching as he worked.

  "Did you come seeking a bow?" he asked.

  "I am no hunter."

  "Then what is it?"

  "I was curious what had happened to you after Athelwald," she said. "I took you for dead when I didn't spot you amongst the survivors."

  "And so I would have been if it hadn't been for the Orcs. Kargen and Laruhk pulled me from the ashes of my hut."

  "And now you are a Fire Mage. How did that come about?"

  "I was taught by the Orcs."

  "It changed you."

  "For the better, I hope?"

  Melwyn avoided his gaze. "I'm still undecided on that."

  "Are you happy, here in Runewald?" asked Athgar.

  "I am not unhappy."

  "That's a guarded reply."

  "I'm very careful with my words," she admitted. "It has served me well here."

  "Why have you come?" he asked. "To visit me, I mean."

  "I'm trying to understand the hold this skrolling has over you."

  Athgar set down his bow, pointing the knife at her as he spoke. "I will not have you talk that way of Natalia. She is my bondmate, and I love her deeply."

  "Only because you have never been with another. What could a woman like her offer that you cannot find with me?"

  "Compassion, for one thing."

  Her face turned crimson, and she opened her mouth in anger, but he cut her off.

  "You see only the worst in people, Melwyn. You were happy to be rid of me, but now you see me as a way to advance your station. Imagine, Melwyn, wife to a Fire Mage!"

  "And what's wrong with that? Surely it's not too much to ask that a Therengian breeds with his own?"

  "It's precisely that attitude that led to the downfall of our people," said Athgar. "It's not us and them; it's about all of us, together, living in harmony."

  "That's not the way of the world, and you know it."

  "Do I? Who's to say it cannot be so?"

  "History," she said, "or did you forget we were conquered?"

  "I've forgotten nothing, but things will never change if no one has the courage to try. Remember, I've lived amongst the Orcs and know they are little different from us."

  "They are brutes," insisted Melwyn.

  "They might say the same of you," he replied, his voice rising. "If you give them half a chance, I think you'll see friendship has its advantages."

  "Your woman has corrupted you."

  "We are partners, Natalia and I, not possessions. It might be different in Runewald, but don't you remember Athelwald? Men and women were treated with respect there. What does one have to do to be received the same here?"

  "That is simple," said Melwyn. "Get rid of the skrolling."

  Athgar rose to his feet. "Whatever we had between us is long dead, Melwyn. You must come to grips with it. Whether you like it or not, Natalia is my wife. Now begone, I have little time for such talk."

  She rose, calming herself as she straightened her dress. "You will live to regret this, Athgar."

  "No, I am at peace with it, as you should be."

&nb
sp; Melwyn turned, walking away without a single glance backward. Athgar sat once more, trying to calm his temper.

  "Was that Melwyn?" asked Natalia, coming out the door.

  "It was, though I would have preferred otherwise."

  "She still loves you."

  "No. She craves power and influence and thinks she would gain status as the wife of a Fire Mage."

  Natalia displayed a hint of a smile. "How do you know that isn't what I want?"

  "You're far more powerful than I. It would be a step down."

  "Hardly that," she said, taking a seat.

  "How are you feeling?"

  "Uncomfortable. You?"

  "I was doing well until Melwyn showed up," Athgar admitted. "Now I don't know what I am."

  "Do you still care for her?"

  "Only as a fellow villager." He looked her in the eyes. "We grew up together and were childhood friends. It wounds me to see the contempt in which she holds you."

  "There are only a few in this village that are so inclined," she said. "The rest have come around."

  "I understand you've been particularly useful of late."

  "Yes, purifying water for ale."

  Athgar looked at her in alarm. "I thought we decided not to use your magic?"

  "It is little effort, and I am careful to limit my power: a technique I learned from the master." Natalia leaned forward, kissing him.

  "Very well," he said as gruffly as he could manage.

  "I've noticed you seldom meet with the king anymore."

  "He still uses me to translate, but it appears I am no longer part of his inner circle."

  She laughed. "Were you ever?"

  "No, I suppose not."

  "We should visit the other villages," she said. "You know there are five of them in total."

  "Five Therengian villages," said Athgar. "Who would have thought? Are they all as big as Runewald?"

  "They say Thaneford is even larger. Should we relocate there?"

  "Perhaps, in time, but I don't think it's a good idea just now with a baby on the way, do you?"

  Her hands went to her belly. "I suppose not."

  "In any event, I've plenty to keep me busy here. My arrows have been very popular with the Orcs, and even some of our own villagers have put in an order for bows."

  "You know, I like it here," said Natalia. "Aside from the whole 'skrolling' thing, of course."